The Conqueror of Love the Heir
Trauma of the past

Happy reading..

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A week passed.

The sound of ceramic and glass shards is mutual, sounding increasingly rowdy. Inside a residential room, a young girl was slamming everything in the room collaborating with hysterical screams coming out of her ripe lips. The girl went on a rampage.

Mahen who had just entered the house, was stunned to hear the noise from the main room.

"What happened in Nayla's room?" the sound of the baritone belonging to Mahen Wijaya made Gala and Mbak Wida, the new servant who was in charge of giving the house, turn towards the source of the sound.

With only a neutral gaze, the personal assistant. Gala Hilton already knew what her master wanted.

"Miss Nayla, knowing who hit her father, sir," Gala replied to her master.

Mahen's gaze sharpened. It was as if questioning why Nayla would know that.

Mahen flicked his hand towards Mbak Wida as a sign that he had to move away a little from himself and also Gala the assistant.

"I don't need to talk much! Get to the point!" mahen told Gala to explain the cause of Nayla's rampage.

Gala took a deep breath before starting her story.

Almost ten minutes Gala Hilton recounted the beginning of the incident, resulting in fatal anger in young girls who were easily exposed to emotion.

Mahen's forehead wrinkled faintly. The handsome man who had firm jaws was still trying to digest the direction Gala spoke.

"I think Miss Nayla has a very bad past, to be said to be traumatized by a car accident. Miss Nayla also had a chance to shout to call mommy help me. There's something weird and weird, sir."

Mahen narrowed his eyes slightly while putting his hands in his pants pocket. He also felt the strangeness experienced by Nayla, his little wife.

"No one can touch and hurt him" Mahen said. Then, the man turned to Gala with a serious facial expression. "Urus divorced Giska and registered my marriage with Nayla in the State!" his orders

Gala was a little surprised by his master's sudden orders.

"I mean, sir?"

"Threaten Giska with all the evidence we have, if she's not willing to divorce me! Because I don't want my wife to be hurt by Giska's threats and her fans! I want Nayla to be able to live quietly without being overshadowed by fear anymore!" mahen.

"Good, Sir."

"And one more! Find out who Nayla calls mommy! As soon as the result I wait or I don't hesitate to penetrate one of my bullets into your head!" menacam Mahen's.

Mahen turned his knees walking towards Nayla's room.

Moments Mahen stopped right in front of Nayla's slightly open door. His little wife had stopped throwing things in the room and there was no more hysterical screams. But just now there was a heartbreaking sobbing sounding louder and louder.

Mahen let out a rough sigh and rubbed his face. His little wife was sitting on the cold floor with her back against the side of the bed, with her face buried between her knees with her back shaking.

Nayla, who currently only wears tank tops and hotpants, shows a very sedating curves of the opposite sex.

Five minutes passed, finally Mahen decided to open the door of the room made of carved wood very slowly. The move swayed by Mahen was very quiet. Even Nayla was not aware of the presence of her husband in the room.

Mahen shook his head, looking at the surrounding conditions that had become a place of emotional overflow of his little wife.

Tired of Nayla. Slowly he lifted his face, and looked very surprised to see the man who had power over him had stood looming before him.

Nayla moved from her seat. His gaze drew out into the netra of Mahen who was now staring towards Nayla.

"Liar! A fraud! You're in cahoots with Giska! What do you want from me! Give me that damn deal! After what you guys planned worked out you just threw me away! You dick! Your kindness is only to cover up your rot, Mr Mahendra Wijaya! Where's your sense of empathy! Man bi ad4b!" nayla screams hysterically by grabbing a flower vase not far from her position.

Nayla begins to rampage and attacks her husband blindly by hitting a crystal vase on Mahen's head. With a quick movement Mahen tried to lock Nayla's hand and succeeded. However, beyond Mahen's expectations, his nimble little wife was able to escape from the lockdown of the burly man.

Prerack..

The loud bang hit Mahen's temple when facing sideways with a tightly closed sense of sight. Instantly slowly something fishy and deep red seeped through his face.

Instantly the vase slipped out of Nayla's clasped hands. It was not his heart's intention to injure the man before him. He just doesn't want anyone to hurt him. Because of the disappointment he got from the news he heard. Feeling lied to by those closest to you.

Silent..

Looking at the blood that kept flowing on the face of the handsome man who was standing in front of him without feeling the slightest pain. Making a scene in the netra Nayla.

A second later, the slender body trembled and an unbalanced grove stood, wavering and almost collapsing on the floor which was a lot of broken glass from the objects on which Nayla slammed. Mahen swiftly caught the limp body in front of him with both hands.

Mahen quickly lifted the body of his little wife and laid slowly on the king-size bed.

"Rest, close your eyes for a moment to dampen unstable emotions" Mahen said in a soft, unemphasized voice.

Nayla closed both of her black eyeballs. With a circle of clear crystals slowly escaping from its hiding.

"I'm sorry" said Nayla, with her eyes closed. "Thank you, don't repay me with your anger" Nayla said.

"Sleep, don't think about it. I will ask Mr. Wida to clean this room," Mahen said with patience.

Why couldn't he be angry with the young girl? Mahen himself is sometimes still confused to find the answer. But he never treated a woman. Even if it was Giska who had the status of his legal wife.

When Mahen was about to move out of the room, suddenly his arm was holding back his steps. The man did not swing his steps and slowly twisted his knees.

"What's wrong?" mahen asked, looking into Nayla's eyes.

Is it compassion in Mahen's heart? Nah! He felt something a sense of beginning to flow that had been held tightly in his heart for years, now opened by his little wife. The one who lay weak and kept a million wounds in his heart.

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